


Promises to Keep

by azri



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Hey now we can lay together without false pretenses!, Post-Trespasser, Trespasser Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-21 01:09:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4809197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azri/pseuds/azri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She promised not to let him die alone, so she followed. </p>
<p>Post-Trespasser AU for the kink meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She followed him.

Solas was barely a few steps from the Eluvian before he feels the familiar, albeit faint pulse of his Anchor. He tenses, power surging through his being as he spins around – only to see her tumbling on his temple’s dawnstone floors, her cry of pain echoing in the hollow stillness as the mark on her hand hummed its death throes. The Eluvian behind her shimmers shut, too late.

His first thought was bitter and sharp – _Of course_. Of course she would follow him.

And then, he was on his knees in a heartbeat, body overtaking mind through the cracks of his breaking composure. It had started to crumble even before she reached him in the Crossroads, and he barely held on to it before fleeing for the safety of his Eluvians. But now, now that she is in his arms, pale and trembling and so, so fragile – the weight of his resolve is too much. 

“Why?” Was the only thing he managed to say. He did not trust himself to say more, should have never trusted himself when she was concerned.

She gasps at a violent crackle from the dying Anchor on her hand, even as her remaining one grips resolutely at the furs on his shoulders. Her eyes looks up at him from the cradle of his arm in a mockery of days gone by, and he _remembers_. He remembers them like this, only the crackling of his failures had been the gentle bubbling of a brook, her pained cries the sound of her laughter as they lay together beneath the canopy of the Emerald Graves. Adamant had been fresh on their mind at that time, and both were all too eager to soothe the memories of cold gravestones and leering taunts with gentle hands and lips.

“I promised” she whispers, breath barely stirring the air between them.

And there had been a promise. Warm and fleeting, one he had received with a sad yet indulgent heart. But he should have _known_. 

“I promised I won’t let you die alone, ma sa’lath”

Anything still holding him together, through the millennia of troubled slumber, through the crippling realization of his actions and the hollowness of his mission, shatters completely 

“Vhenan” He scarcely realizes that the strangled sob was his own voice, and yet he could not stop – 

"Vhenan" He murmurs the endearment over and over like a prayer, like a benediction as he held unto her as tightly as he dared. And then, he was no longer the Dread Wolf, no longer an Evanuris with the weight of his people around his shoulders. He was just Solas, one who thought his pride had cost him his heart - and was proven wrong. 

 

***********************************************************************************************************************

 

He takes her to one of his sanctuaries – A small temple dedicated to Mythal that he had turned into something resembling a home. Even now, he still feels the gentle brush of his friend’s presence more acutely in the stones and pillars around him than from within himself. And not for the first time, he wonders at what she would have said about all this, wonders if she would have approved as he carries his heart on the crook of his arms.

He lays her on his makeshift bed, curls himself around her as he whispers healing spells and meaningless endearments alike to her sweat-soaked brows, until her breath evens out and the dying crackle of his Anchor goes completely silent.

He knows what would happen to her hand afterwards, had seen the results on too-prideful enchanters back in Arlathan. And yet, he was not prepared to see her – his heart, who had always been so bright, so _whole_ – The folds of her robes falling limply just below her elbow. His own hands tremble as he caresses her shoulders, and then down, down, until his hand stills. He knows what he has to do come with a price, and yet she had been the one who paid so much. Too much. He cannot possibly - 

“It’s all right, Solas” She whispers, as if reading his thoughts. And she is always so _gentle_ with him, even as her remaining hand clasps his and guides it to rest on her cheek.

_I won’t let anyone hurt you_ , she had said once, such a long time ago. At that time, it had been almost laughable, this little slip of a Dalish girl with her rusted sword and the mark burning, burning in her tiny hand. But her own mark had been Mythal’s, and if anything, she had protected him, through countless battles and pitfalls.

And now, she is protecting him from himself. From the shadows of the Dread Wolf that hangs like so many chains from his shoulders. He could almost feel Mythal’s smile at his realization, somewhere deep inside him.

He kisses her before he knew what he is doing, lips and tongue desperate as hers parted beneath his questing ones. He kisses her like a man drowning, searching, searching for a reason to keep afloat. And then, just as abruptly as he had initiated it, he drew back from the kiss – cradling her face on his hands as he met her too-bright eyes. 

“I don’t” Solas drew a sharp breath “I don’t know what I can promise you. You are aware of my plans and what it entails, and I cannot – “

This time, it was her who drew him into a kiss, a hand resting on the nape of his neck to pull him towards her. As with everything about her, it was firm and gentle and more than he deserved – her lips working softly, almost soothingly against his before she, too, pulled away. 

“Just promise me that you would not die alone”

Solas’s heart twisted and twisted inside him, the words as heavy as the mantle of sorrows on his shoulders and twice as painful. But she is his heart and he knows that he cannot go back, that she cannot go back, not after this. So he nods, kissing the fingers of her hand reverently.

“That I can promise you, vhenan”


	2. Chapter 2

She had been born running. 

In her clan, it had been from shems who were always too angry about too many things - Farmers, townsfolks with their torches and the bloodthirsty dirge of their Chants. Then it was Templars, coming to take the da’lens away never to return. Afterwards she was the Herald, the Inquisitor, and she ran to close rifts, save lives, appease the shems that only wanted her knife-eared head on their silver plates. But it had been all right – She didn’t remember a time when she wasn’t running, and he had been at her side – running alongside her, a hand to pull her up when she falters.

Then he had left, and all she could do was keep running. Throughout the countless Eluvians, her Keeper’s words rang in her ears. _Run, da’len. Lest the Dread Wolf catch your scent_. She ran until she could run no more – knees buckling under her as the dying Anchor in her hand crackled and sputtered like the angry skies of the breach. 

And now that the Dread Wolf himself has caught her, Ellana realized that she can run no more. And she does not know what to do.

Something seem to have settled in the air between them as Fen’Harel, no, Solas, made his promise. Something lightens in her heart, emboldens her to burrow closer at his side and drown herself in his scent. Solas stiffens in her embrace before something, too, seemed to lift from his countenance, and his arms presses her closer still. It feels like they are falling to the past, now that they are not running and they don’t know what to do – And for a split second, she wonders if Solas feels the same.

She doesn’t know who moved first, but in a heartbeat they fall into another kiss, this one more heated and frantic than the last one, hands digging into flesh and legs tangling hopelessly against each other. Their kiss feels desperate, searching, deeper and deeper until she feels something clicks into place. They are the Dread Wolf and the Inquisitor, but he is still her Solas, she is still his Ellana. They are still them. 

When they finally break apart, Ellana slumps back into the furs beneath her, dazed and trembling as the toll of her battles finally crashes into her. But it is also relief – Creators, so much relief. 

He looks down at her in concern, looking entirely the Solas she knows from their days of the Breach, a hand flying to rest at her brows. She laughs, shaky and thin, pulling him down for another kiss to assuage him – but his hand envelops hers firmly, keeping the excruciating distance between them.

“We shouldn’t, Vhenan. You are still hurting”

Ellana let out another laugh and shakes her head “No, I am fine, ma sa’lath. Please, I need this” Had needed it for so long now – tossing and turning in sheets and furs that were too empty, too cold - replaying his words over and over. _What we had was real_. In a word of living Gods and falling skies, she needs – “I need this to finally be real”

Solas’s expression above him was unreadable, his body perfectly still but the fingers caressing her brows. “Are you sure?” He says finally, gently.

She smiles, and again falls back to the memories of their shared days – The times when he was much too serious and she has to get around his many, many walls. 

“Yes, I’m sure you can work something out. Or is it too much for the great Fen'Harel?”

 _Something_ seemed to shift in his eyes as the taunt died on her lips, and for a split second she was afraid that she has gone too far, too soon. And yet, a moment later a languid smile spread slowly through his mouth – all teeth and hidden promises and something she has never seen before in her Solas. 

“Very well, Vhenan” His voice had been different too, back in the Crossroads - a quiet power simmering behind his normally gentle tones, like steel covered in velvet. But it has not been as apparent as it is now, with their chests pressed together and the deep rumble of his voice reverberating against her bosoms – and a small whimper escapes her lips before she can catch herself. He seems to notice this, and something decidedly wicked flashes across his eyes.

His head drops lower still, lips finding the shell of her ear before he speaks again “I am sure I will manage to work something out”

Heat blossoms deep in her belly at his voice, her cheeks hot with the rosy tint of her arousal - his laugh so close to her ear doing nothing to stop its spread. “But first – “

A blanket of warmth washes over her, leeching away the deep-seated strains and exhaustion from the day’s battles. She has had Solas do this to her before, in the precarious privacy of their tents after days of closing rifts and fighting demons, hands roaming to spread the spell more out of a need to touch than pure necessity.

Ellana basks in the familiar feeling, warmth suffusing into the very tips of her body, rounding ever so gently over the still unfamiliar feeling of her truncated left arm. But then, something _changed_. The warmth begins to take shape, sliding, skimming across her skin like a caress underneath her robes. And above her, Solas watches her intently, face betraying nothing even as she yelps when the warmth presses at her sex, parting her lips and slipping, burrowing inside her. He watches her, hands tender as he tucks wild strands of hair from her face, caress her cheek with his thumb – a contrast to the lewd glide and press of his magic on her curves.

He continues to watch as Ellana’s control broke, thin and wavering as it was from the adrenaline of her previous battles and the utter joy of just seeing him again. His magic is insistent, relentless as it teases and kneads – like countless hands all over her body, while his own hands rests calmly against her. She writhes and trashes even as his weight and his hands pins her down gently, stormy blue eyes steady against her wild ones as she finally screams her release – her legs latching into his, heels digging against his furs as she presses herself to him as close as she can.

Ellana blinks, dazed, to find Solas still watching her, face as impassive and composed as ever. But she knows, she knows her Solas – Knows how dark his eyes has gotten, the stormy blue but a thin ring around the all-consuming black, knows the tension in his jaw, the slight flare on his nostrils and the want in his fingers as it slid slowly down, down to slip beneath the leather of her breeches.

Ellana held her breath as his long, long fingers slide into her opening, as pure hunger flashes in his eyes when he finds it utterly, helplessly drenched with her want. He retracts his fingers with the same excruciating slowness, bringing the glistening digit between them before he licks it clean.

Ellana whimpers, the ebbing remains of her climax slamming back into her full force at the sight. Solas laughs, high and clear and arrogant – Her Solas, her Dread Wolf. 

He smiles, then, tenderness slipping through the dark promises of his teeth.

“First, I had to make sure that you’re ready"


	3. Chapter 3

“I am” Ellana breathes, words deserting her with how much she wants this – Is ready for this. 

The mirth in his face slips ever so slightly – A familiar hint of sadness weaving into his smile as he reached down to touch her face, light as a feather and just as gentle. “Are you, Vhenan?”

And then, his eyes flares into life – bright and otherworldly, like the distant flash of thunderstorms as magic shimmers around her, embraces her. A thread of magic teases, slips between the collar of her robes before several others joins it, unraveling the clasps on her bosoms. Soon the hum of magic was all over her, invisible hands unlacing and shedding. Throughout it all, Ellana could hardly take her eyes off the man kneeling above her. Even without being able to see them, she knows enough from her talks with Solas and Dorian to feel how delicate the weaves around her are, how much control one needs to keep their touches so light and precise. Solas has always been a powerful mage, more than the Firsts and the Keepers she grew up with, more than the Circle mages in all of Skyhold, but he is more. Has always been more, and the unrelenting caress and pull of magic around her seem to her a gentle reminder. He is her Solas, and yet he is also the Dread Wolf - Fen’Harel, one of the Evanuris. 

The last of her clothes fell to the furs beneath her with a clink, and she shivers despite the warmth of the chamber around her. Her nakedness makes her too aware of how _clothed_ he is in contrast. He has already shed the elvhen armor he wore on the Crossroads, leaving grey silk and fur to drape across his broad shouldered frame. It is a far cry from the soft, threadbare tunics of his that she was so used to – and for a fleeting moment he is a stranger, resplendent and sharp and predatory – thunderstorms in his eyes and a millenia of secrets in his heart.

Ellana’s heart is wild against her chest as Solas looms above her, a halla caught by a wolf. He plants his free arm beside her and dips his body closer until they barely touch – and Ellana drew a sharp,shaky breath. _Not in fear_ , she whispers to herself, even as her knees tremble around his sides. _Never in fear_. The finger on her cheek slides down, hooks beneath her chin and tips it gently up, up, to bring her gaze against his. 

“Look at me, Ellana” his eyes are brighter now, like the heart of a storm, the air around them heavy with the crackle of ancient magic. She couldn’t have looked away if she wanted to. 

“This is what I am” He whispers “And after all this is done, there is no telling what I will become”

And how true was that? How many times had he tried to disentangle himself, all those time in Skyhold? And yet...

“I was not ready for your mark either, Solas” She reaches out for him, all too aware of the empty pang where her left arm should have been, where once she could have embraced him fully. And _this_ is what she has became too, she is as marked as he is by this path, by the strange twisting of fates handed to them. “But I was not alone, and so we endured” 

“We will endure this together, ma sa’lath, whatever we must become”

Solas let out a choked noise before he closes his eyes and finally, finally let himself fall against her – magic crashing and swelling all around them as the familiar planes of their bodies lock against each other. 

Ellana closes her eyes, and lets the Dread Wolf take her.

 

*********************************************************

 

They have never lain together before, during the two years they were together. Their touches were always gentle and comforting, their kisses slow and unhurried even as the skies tears apart and the world burns around them. There has always been an impenetrable veil around Solas, in the way he would gently disentangle himself from their embraces, from the fond shakes of his head as she tried, and always failed to pull him into her bed. She understands them now, the doubt and feelings of futility as he must have tried not to fall into something that he could not have after all.

And yet it did not prepare her for _this_ – For all the things that he did _not_ show her then. But she should have known. There was always an edge of desperation in his kisses, in how he seem to savor every tiny detail of their embraces, like a condemned man savoring his last drop of wine. She sees it all now as he all but devours her in his kiss, his tongue harsh and insistent as it parts her lips. His hands are everywhere, gliding across her curves with something both feverish and reverent. 

In turn, she tugs at his robes – the thin fabric suddenly too thick, too much as her own yearns for his bared skin. Solas catches on almost immediately, long fingers working to part his robes before shrugging it off, letting the grey silk cascade against his body. 

For a moment, it was all Ellana could do to regard him – _all_ of him, her mouth dry as her hand slowly glides across the hard planes of his chest, the broad slopes of his shoulders – So familiar from her past explorations of them but hidden to her nevertheless. Until now.

He hisses as her fingers brushes over a nipple – the darker skin puckering under her touch – goosebumps trailing in her wake as her fingers got bolder, skimming down his sides and dipping low into the crease of his hips. 

“Vhenan - ” Solas warns, low and hoarse and nothing like the dulcet, composed tones that she has gotten used to. Her hand does not relent, a hazy part of her mind reeling at the knowledge that _she_ is doing this to him, her hand on his skin and nothing else - 

Her reverie broke as Solas all but snarls, a strong arm scooping under her and pulling her flush against him. The feeling of skin against skin is alien yet welcome, the sensations almost maddening as she ruts in the embrace, the curves of their bodies interlocking so closely she lost sense of where she ends and he begins. 

“I have dreamt – wanted” Ellana’s breath hitches at the pure _need_ in his voice, both the timbre and the rumble of his voice against her breasts building, building at the simmering heat in her belly “-wanted this for so long, Vhenan, Ellana” He nips at her jugular, trails kisses and grazes his teeth down to her collarbone, down, down to the valley of her breasts.

Ellana cries out as his mouth claimed her breast – lips and tongue and teeth working in ways she never felt before. “And your voice, ma’asha”, he whispers, breath hot as his lips trails back up to find the shell of her ear, deft fingers alighting where his lips has just been 

“You don’t know how often I listened to your voice wondering, wondering how it would sound raised in pleasure” He punctuates his words with a tweak at her nipples, rewarding him with another involuntary cry. 

“And such pleasures I will give you, vhenan’ara”

He chuckles, then, low and dark as his arms envelops her, draws her close so her back is nestled in the curve of his body. She gasps at the heat radiating from him – Solas has always been warm, a veritable furnace in the cold halls of Skyhold, and she wonders now if it was just something else of the elvhen, something else that they had lost. And it was not just the heat – she feels something else, a hardness nestled between the cleft of her backside – warm and insistent and there, and she blushes in spite of herself.

Solas, of course, notices the heat in her cheeks, and his smile grew, if possible, even wider. If his smile had been predatory earlier, this was positively feral - all teeth and dark promises as his hot breath brush against her collarbone. 

“Patience, my heart. We will get to that later” 

As if on cue, she feels Solas’s hand slide down to her thighs, large hands cupping her sex before one long finger glides along the parting of her lips. A white-hot spike of lust shoots through her body, and she gives a sharp cry, thighs clamping together protectively. He shushes her gently, hooks his free hand under her thigh before lifting it as wide as it would go.

She has no time to struggle in their new position before that one finger dips inside her, burying itself to the knuckle and stealing all of her breath. Behind her, Solas’s breath is heavy and hot, lips trembling against her neck even as his fingers spread her open – steady and deft. 

Soon, she is an incoherent mess in his arms as his fingers teased and played with her sex, spreading her, opening her wide as one finger is joined by another, then another – the burn of his intrusions driving her to the edge with want, but never exactly bringing her there. Through the haze of lust and bared skin, she sees the glint of his smile – a predator playing with his prey as he brings her in circle after endless circles with his fingers. 

“Please, Solas, _please_ ” She whimpers, uncaring anymore that she is babbling, pleading without shame, the fingers inside her twisting and scissoring until she is lightheaded with built up pleasure.

“Because my heart asks me so nicely” His smile is wicked as he withdrew his fingers, her slick trailing obscenely from his long, long fingers. She gasps in despair, which only makes his smile wider as he disentangles himself from her, limbs and bodies slick with sweat. She watches, mesmerized,as he slides down her body – movement fluid and beautiful, like a sacred animal, wild and dangerous, to rest between her legs. 

She never feel so exposed before in her life, heat creeping up her cheeks as Solas pushes her legs even wider, hooking his arms beneath them and lifting so he is face to face with her dripping sex. She reaches out, flustered, trying to pry the vice-like grip on her legs. But Solas shushes her again, planting a gentle kiss on the insides of her leg. 

“You are perfect, ma’asha. Do not doubt this”

He lapses into hushed, almost reverent elven, leaving a trail of kisses and words along her inner thighs – Creators, she is going to come from his voice alone, low and needy between her legs. But then his tongue touches her opening – swollen and drenched as it is, and all coherent thoughts flees from her mind.

She never thought anything, _anything_ could feel this good. His tongue strokes and laps and pierces at her opening, teeth sometimes grazing, nipping at the tender folds until the built up heat erupts in her belly and she is flailing, falling, his hands holding her and his tongue the only thing anchoring her to anything at all. He works her until she was hoarse, until her want runs forth from her like a river, and even then he laps them up, the noises he makes greedy and obscene against her wet skin. 

When he is finally done, he creeps back up to claim her mouth in a deep, messy kiss which she drowns herself in, tasting herself in his lips through the haze of her many, many completion. As he folds himself atop her, his soft leather breeches drags against her sensitive sex, and she swears under her breath at the unexpected friction.

“Hmmm, what is it, ma vhenan?”

“I can’t believe you still have your breeches on” 

And then Solas _laughs_ , the sound rich and deep and so genuine that her heart skips a beat. He continues to laugh as he kisses her again, mirth against her lips and she has never seen him so carefree, so - 

“You’re happy” she breathes, then, words slipping from her mouth unbidden. Solas’s laughter subsides, and he slowly, slowly lifts his head from their kiss, an openness in his face and a warmth in his steel blue eyes that she has never seen so clearly before. 

His smile, this time, is something else entirely. Not the sad, self-depreciating quirk of Solas’s lips, and neither it is Fen’Harel’s feral, sharp-toothed grin. She wants, she wants this smile to be _hers_ “Yes, Vhenan” 

“I am”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, actual smut! :D  
> I was blushing furiously the whole time I was typing this, hope you guys enjoy and thanks for reading! XD


	4. Chapter 4

Solas has never realized just how _small_ his Ellana is. Spread open on the furs before him, without the heavy armor that always clung to her body, without the mark crackling, always humming in her hand, she looked delicate – fragile, almost. 

One of the things he picked upon waking from his slumber was how much his people had changed– Thousands of years of slavery and oppression had whittled down the bones of the elvhenan, pruned them like the forests and spires that the humans razed down to lonely ruins. It had been, oddly enough, one of the hardest thing for him to swallow – That his mistakes had changed them so much he was loathe to call them kin anymore. 

And then he had met her. Lithe and quick, with willowy planes where the elvhenan would have curves – there had been something else in her. A fire, an indomitable spirit, and then more. The lightness of her frame as she settles on his lap, her body fitting perfectly into his – But she had never been small, never fragile, his memories of her always a blur of shields and armors, battle cries and the sound of her laughter. 

And yet now here she is, and Solas’s hands almost tremble as he parts her legs, angles himself at her entrance. Even with how wet she already is, Solas knows that he would be bigger than anyone she has taken before. So he braces himself on one arm and slowly feeds his cock into her opening, closing his eyes as her warmth envelops him, stealing his breath and making his limbs stutter with need. 

Beneath him, he hears Ellana whimper, low and keening, and his eyes shoots open in a heartbeat, finding hers brimming with tears. He stills completely above her, dread seeping like ice on his spine. 

“Am I hurting you, Vhenan?”

“No, no” she shook her head almost vehemently, fingers reaching to touch his cheek in a trembling caress. “Just, just let me get used to it, ma’ara” she bites her lips “Please, please keep going”

He enters her slowly, in incremental bits as he takes the time to soothe her, lap away at the fresh tears in the edge of her too-bright eyes. She moans and whimpers into his ear, her hand grasping at the small of his back pushing him inside her at her own pace as she stretches to accommodate him. Until finally, finally he is buried to the hilt inside her – their bodies almost flush and their breath mingling together, harsh and elated. 

There is no words to rightly describe how she feels around him - She feels almost _divine_ , tight and wet and sheathing him perfectly. It has been too, too long - and Solas has to bite his tongue not to come there and then – rubbing soothing circles against her scalp even as she clenches around his length. It took all of his strength not to just rut mindlessly against the soft, pliant body below him – and the wolf inside him howls and claws at the surface of his mind, demanding more. He wants to fuck her senseless, grind and thrust inside her warmth until she is begging for mercy, until she faints from the pleasure. But she is his Ellana and she has endured so much, too much, and the urge to protect her, cherish her, is everything. 

So he went slowly, taking her in gentle, deliberate thrusts that she shuddered around – pleas and moans spilling from her lips like a prayer. He slips his hand between their joined bodies and dips his fingers briefly into her slick before finding her pearl. She gave a strangled cry, her walls contracting even tighter around him and it takes all of his control to keep his pace. Solas buries his face on the crook of her neck – whispering nonsense in elvhen against her soft, soft skin, nipping at the delicate curve of her ears as her body adjusts to his.

And then, _she_ moves. 

It was his turn to gasp as she arches into him – her hips lifting from the furs beneath her to roll slowly against his. His legs stutters around her, lips barely biting back a snarl as her heels dig into his back, drawing them impossibly close. She does this a few more times, as if testing the limits of her body around his and finding infinity of chances - and his heart clenches in fondness even as his body is drawn to the edge.

She smiles, then, and it steals his breath away with how much joy there is in that one gesture – How much it throws him back to the rare moments when she forgets the burdens and the darkness closing, always closing around them. She gives him another experimental grind of her hips, and the smile turns into a laugh as he gave a moan.

Her hand reaches at him, resting on the small of his back to lever herself to his throat. Her breath is hot against his skin, the edges of her teeth barely scarping his collarbone as she whispers.

“Take me”

And so he does – With an abandon that he previously thought himself incapable of since waking from his slumber. He flips her over, driving her to her knees as he takes her, teeth and nail marking her as his, his, his. Everytime he hesitates, she is there to pull him in, urge him to continue, to do more. She screams his name into his skin, her body rippling and trembling around his as he all but devours every inch of her. He takes her until she is incoherent with pleasure, their bodies but an extension of one another as their limbs tangle together feverishly and he is close to unraveling completely.  
He pulls her beneath him with what is left of his control – Burying himself deep inside her with a swift thrust. She moans against his skin, too weak to cry out now even as his fingers descend upon her swollen pearl. 

“Come for me, Ellana” he whispers, and beneath him, she came apart – Their fingers tangling together as he swallows her cries with his own lips. He followed her down the edge a split second later – He was helpless not to, not with her warmth all around him and her soft body pressed so close against his and for a moment he doesn’t know where he ended and she begun and it does not matter. It was all he could do to brace himself against his elbows, keeping his weight off her slight frame even as the world exploded around him.

He opens his eyes to find hers gazing up at him, the edges crinkling with mirth and warmth as she pulls him into a gentle kiss – the meeting of their lips unburdened and light in a way that it has rarely ever been.

“Ma Serannas, Solas”

His name never felt so right coming out from her lips, and he murmurs his own gratitude in another kiss before he lay beside her, her head nestled against his heart and her own heartbeat thrumming into rest against his skin.

There is, of course, still the matter of the her Inquisition, and how she would fit into his plans, what he would stand to lose and gain with her on his side. Yet she is warm and real in his embrace. Has always been real, from the first time he took her hand so long ago on the mountains of Haven – His love, his heart – And now he cannot let go anymore. Cannot go back. 

“Ar lath ma” she whispers, and her words are a small thing in the darkness enclosing them, a futile glimmer of light in a path where there is only death. But it is a promise, her promise that she will stay by his side, whatever may come. 

And so, this time, he followed.


End file.
